


For Forever

by Rowan_13



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, YouTube, jacksepticeye - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan_13/pseuds/Rowan_13
Summary: Jack McLoughlin hasn't had an easy summer; for the first time in his life, Jack feels like there really is no way out.Every weight is suddenly far heavier than ever before but when a new face turns up at school, can he help Jack work through his issues and get his future back on track?





	1. The Rosy Jumper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hei, I'm Rowan.
> 
> So. Another new story. This one, for the first time, isn't Klaine. It is inspired by a few songs, such as For Forever from the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack (highly recommend) and Castle on the Hill by Ed Sheeran. Be prepared for some very thinly veiled references.
> 
> I'm trying to be a little different with this one so bear with me. Also, this is very much a story. There are some characters who you won't recognise as they are completely my own. There are also some characters who you will recognise but have been flipped almost entirely for the purposes of this story. This is not Markiplier and Jacksepticeye anymore. They've gone through such a thorough development process that they are now their own characters to me.
> 
> In fact, a very major part of this story is a character who comes from absolutely nowhere. Lucas Mulligan joins Mark and Jack to finish the trifecta of protagonists in this story so, please, be kind (he is my baby).
> 
> I want to warn you now that this story will touch on some very serious issues and have some triggering topics. It's based around mental illness and other branches on that tree, so please, if this might trigger you, I urge you not to put yourself in danger.
> 
> This story may include (but is not limited to)-  
> Depression  
> Self harm  
> Social anxiety  
> Bipolar Disorder  
> Suicide
> 
> Please do not read this if it might trigger you. I will try to warn you when it crops up, just please know what this story entails before reading. I may not always get the right moments and I sometimes make mistakes so if there is a real threat to your safety, do not continue. I love all of you and I want you all to know that you are lovely, please do not put yourself in harm's way.
> 
> I don't know how the education system works in Ireland so I'm just going to write this as if they took GCSEs and are taking AS/A Levels so I apologise if I am wrong.
> 
> ~ Rowan

  
26.07.06

Hair whipping in the wind, Jack ran hand-in-hand through the backfields with Lucas.

They were running from Jack and Lucas's older brothers, Malcolm, John and Davey, and their friends. Jack's mother had told them that the older boys wouldn't be home from playing football at the park for another few hours when she went to sit with Lucas's parents in the front garden, so the boys had decided to play on Malcolm's Xbox. He was very proud of the expensive console and treated  it like it was family. It had been clearly stated, many times, that John was the only one allowed to use it and that Jack could never touch it. Therefore, when the two boys walked through the front door with their friends to see their six-year-old brother lying on the sofa with his head in his best friend's lap, controller hanging lazily in hand as he looked upwards to listen to what the slightly older boy was saying, angry was an understatement.

The shouting had started immediately as Malcolm snatched the controllers from their hands, snarling as he hauled Jack upright by the front of his Spider-Man shirt and into the middle of the living room, "What the hell did I say about touching my things, Twerp?" His voice remained low as he hissed in Jack's ear, finally glancing to where Lucas sat, staring in an alarmed terror, when Jack struggled his way out of his grip, "What were you doing anyway? Cuddling?" Laughter rang out through the friends as Lucas bundled himself behind Jack, where he locked onto his friend's forefinger discreetly. Malcolm shook his head in contempt, reaching out and pushing Jack's chest until the smaller boy stumbled, "What, are you gay?" The scorn dripped from his voice as he pushed Jack one more time, snorting as the boy avoided his friend and fell backwards onto the wooden floor. Malcolm's friends gathered around to laugh at Jack as he clambered up quickly, refusing to stay down for long.

Although Jack didn't know what the word 'gay' meant, he didn't really like the tone that Malcolm had used with it. He didn't like to be laughed at, especially not by his 'older and therefore wiser' siblings, so a quick, "no," escaped the smaller boy's lips. Within a moment, Jack had grabbed Lucas's hand and locked his fingers through his, pulling the boy through to the kitchen and out of the open back door. The laughter of the older boys rang behind them as they gave the younger kids a head start. They obviously didn't think that the smaller boys would get away from them quickly.

However, they didn't take into account the fact that Jack and Lucas were ridiculously nimble. They vaulted the garden fence together, hands still locked, and hit the floor running without waiting for a second as the older kids poured out of the backdoor. Malcolm was shouting after them as they kept running through the fields of Jack's family's farm, staying close to the hedgerows to avoid the crops, cows and sheep. Occasionally, one would hop over something and yank on the other's arm, causing them to trip or stumble for a moment, but not once did they let go.

The summer wind kissed their faces as Lucas glanced across to see Jack, the confident grin filling his cheeks as he whipped his head around briefly to see the group of thirteen-year-olds running behind them. They were slowing down gradually, obviously realising that they weren't going to catch up as Jack heard Malcolm shouting at John about "fucking kids and their stamina."

Flying passed Jack's horse, he smiled and laughed as the young, grey mare began running with them along the gate, cantering easily so that they could keep up, "I'll be back later, Seelie!" The boys laughed as they kept running, leaving the confused horse behind and pushing further on.

Jack's brothers were still chasing, if only slowly, so they kept running, going further and further than they ever had before. They weren't usually allowed to go very far into Jack's fields as they spread out for acres. The McLoughlins had the biggest farm in the area and most of the land belonged to them. They put a lot of the farthest fields up for rent, so Jack and Lucas could just see the patch belonging to a boy from their school's field of sheep coming into the distance, his house sitting conveniently next to it on the road.

The only field between that one and the boys was one that Jack really had never seen before. It had to be the biggest plot on the entire farm and the valley remained empty of crops or animals, surrounded and hidden by towering trees. The field of grass stretched out for seemingly forever into the distance, only stopping when it hit the woodland that surrounded the town. However, it didn't remain completely empty. Jack and Lucas slowed to a stop as they they reached the line of trees and looked at the large farm house sitting on the opposite hill, silence falling over the area as they took in the ruined walls and the dilapidated stable block.

Eventually, Jack heard their brothers' cries getting louder, realising that they were only mere steps behind them. He dropped Lucas's hand instinctively, taking off with the blonde boy behind him but misjudging the ground and catching his foot under a root.

A loud yelp left Jack as he felt himself falling, feeling Lucas attempting to grab his shirt but just coming down with him. There was a moment where it felt like they were flying, the air pushing against their bodies and propelling them upwards into the vast sky above. Unfortunately, that didn't last long. They hit the ground at almost the same time and rolled down the hill. Jack regretted opening his mouth to shriek immediately, coughing and spluttering as he tasted the sweet perfume of the grass. As they neared the bottom of the hill, Jack caught sight of Lucas coming to a gentle stop ahead of him, barely having time to process his relief, before a loud cracking sound filled the quiet and pain shot through his left leg.

"Jack!" Vision swimming as he glanced up to see Lucas running towards him, Jack registered the trees around him and the tree that his leg had snapped against, the farmhouse across from them and the older boys running down the hill towards them. Wanting to warn Lucas, Jack found that turning to look at his friend was intensely painful and reached a hand up to his head, confused when his fingers came away sticky and red.

Lucas kneeled beside Jack's head, cradling it in his lap as he brushed the thick brown fringe from his face, "You're going to be okay, Jacky, you're going to be-" Eyes closing and blackness washing over Jack's features, he felt his consciousness slipping away as he missed what his friend was saying, "Stay with me, Jacky." Feeling small hands hit against his cheeks, Jack fluttered his eyes open for a second to see Cole Tiffin and his father, phone in hand, running towards them with worried glances before succumbing to the pain. His eyes rolled backwards in his head as he finally slipped from consciousness.

 

Beeping.

The first thing Jack heard when he came to was that incessant beeping. If he could give anything to stop that noise, it'd be gone in a heartbeat. However, the beeping kept going, if anything, it increased slightly as he began to feel more in control. If Jack really focussed, he could feel small fingers wrapping around his own and strands of hair tickling his wrist.

After struggling for a minute or two, Jack was able to shift his fingers slightly, feeling the hair raise immediately and the soft grasp of the fingers beginning to grip for dear life. He heard the sharp intake of a breath and that familiar voice calling out for help, "Mrs McLoughlin! Mr McLoughlin! Mam!" Jack twitched his nose as he continued to move his fingers ever so slightly, desperate to just open his eyes and reassure Lucas that he was fine, "Come on, Jacky. Just wake up!"

Grunting softly, Jack managed to part his eyelids, if only slightly, and turned his head just a centimetre towards his friend. His eyes were red and sore, crusted shut and blurry as he tried to focus on the boy next to his bed. Eventually, his vision cleared slightly as he blinked, peering blearily through watered lenses at the blob with the blonde fringe, "Lucas?"

Skinny arms quickly wrapped themselves around Jack's neck as he chuckled gently, pushing the excited kid away from him to try to look at him properly. Lucas's hair was messy and clung to his forehead in dirty strands with the occasional tuft sticking out at an odd angle. He wore his favourite jumper; the one he'd bought for Jack's birthday that year and had claimed back from his wardrobe within a week. The dusty rose fabric hung from his thin shoulders, close to reaching his knees, and the sleeves had been rolled up so many times to keep them from hanging over his hands that Jack just wanted to smile every time he saw him wear it. It had fit like that on Jack too when he'd owned it.

In fact, Lucas had got it from Jack's sister, Allison, who'd bought it to be baggy but found it was far too big for her thirteen-year-old frame. Lucas had loved it when he'd seen it and had been ecstatic when Allison had humoured him by letting him have it, but when he'd taken it home to his father, he'd been told that it was ridiculous and that boys didn't wear pink. Or jumpers made for people three-times their age. When Jack had opened his birthday present that year, he'd known exactly why Lucas was giving it to him and immediately told the boy that he could keep it in his wardrobe if he wanted to wear it. Everything had ended happily; Lucas was still able to wear his favourite jumper, eventually just taking it home and hiding it from his father, and Jack had used his birthday present to make his favourite person happy.

"You're awake," Lucas clutched at Jack's hand once again, pressing his lips to the back of his fingers as he heard Jack's parents burst through the door behind him.

A whirlwind of knee-length skirts and ribbons and headscarves flew into the room as Jack's mother blustered in, "Jack, we were so worried!" She was followed by flat-caps and flannels as his father entered quietly, simply smiling at the sight of his wife, so full of life. Sometimes Jack wanted to throw up at how in love his parents were. It was definitely better than constant fighting, of course, but sickening gazes and glances and the kissing before they left for work every morning made Jack want stick his head down the nearest toilet.

"I'll get the doctor." Jack watched his father kiss his mother on the cheek quickly and felt him pat his knee before he headed out of the room, towards the nurses' station at the end of the corridor. It was obvious that he was certainly a lot calmer than Jack's mother, his stride slow and purposeful but nowhere near as erratic as the woman standing behind Lucas.

Lifting Lucas onto her knee as she sat beside Jack on the bed, his mother adjusted her headscarf over her closely-cropped hair, pink ribbon dangling from her wrist as she stroked Jack's hair back from his forehead, "I'm fine, Ma. Malcolm and John were chasing us and we fell. I think I hit my leg. That was it. It can't have been that bad, Lucas fell too and he's fine." Jack leaned against his mother's touch slightly, shifting beneath her fingers as he saw Lucas smiling whilst he watched. He knew that Lucas had always been a little jealous of Jack's relationship with his parents but who could blame the kid? His were always fighting and his father ignored him unless he was shouting at him.

As Jack's mother moved her fingers to cup his cheek, Jack couldn't help but smile as he saw her tighten her arm around Lucas protectively. He loved how his mother always treated his friend as one of her own children and he loved how happy it made Lucas to feel safe in someone's arms, "I swear, I will kill those two. What did they think they were doing?"

Shaking his head, Jack reached a hand up to take his mother's in his own, playing with her fingers to distract her. He knew that always worked to get her off certain topics, "It was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going."

A tall woman with her blonde hair scraped back into a high ponytail peered around the door, tutting as she stepped inside and gestured for Lucas to come towards her, "C'mon, Lucas, you know you're not really supposed to be in here." Her chipped nails had once been painted with navy blue, Jack's dad's favourite colour, as she made a grabbing motion and waited with an outstretched hand.

"Nancy, it's fine." Jack's mother shook her head slowly, just adjusting her grip on Lucas as if to stop him going towards her, not that he'd made any movement to do so to begin with. Lucas seemed content to stay exactly where he was, playing with his rosy sleeves as he looked up at Jack through his long eyelashes.

Nancy stepped into the room quickly, becoming more determined for Lucas to take her hand and follow her out of the room, "It's not hospital procedure. It's not normal." Her ponytail bobbed behind her as she shook her head, teal scrubs and grey trainers squeaking against the cold floor with every step. It was obvious that she wasn't going to give up though Lucas just seemed to bury himself further into the grip of Jack's mother. He didn't want to leave Jack's side.

"My son is in the hospital with a broken leg. Does this look like a normal situation to you?" There was silence for a moment as Jack's mother waited for Nancy to say something, eventually cutting in again when her friend didn't seem to know what to say, "I don't give a flying fuck what's normal."

When there was quiet again, Jack finally spoke up, confused and concerned as Lucas reached out to take his hand, "It's broken?"

Turning away from Nancy for a moment to reassure her son, Jack's mother stroked his hair again with her frail fingers, "Have you not thought about why you can't move it?" A small smile played across her lips as she leaned over to kiss his forehead, chuckling as he squirmed and struggled to wipe any possible saliva or lipstick away.

"This is normal, actually, because I am a nurse and I see this everyday but Florrie, language please. Not in front of the children." At this, Nancy stepped forward again, wrapping her fingers tightly around Lucas's wrist and pulling him from the younger woman's lap. Her grip was cold and fastened securely to be sure that he didn't try to pull away, not noticing that she made Lucas wince slightly as he tried to pull his hand back to his chest.

Jack's mother scoffed quickly, shooting Lucas a concerned glance at his reaction, "Whatever, he's your kid so do what you want but Jack wants him here."

Nancy paused briefly as she locked eyes with Jack's mother, seemingly torn between hospital procedure and helping a friend, "Come and wait outside for now, Lucas." Her job, however, took priority as she led the seven-year-old boy from the room and to the harsh, plastic chairs outside, where he seemed to drown in his jumper and the rush of people whirling passed.

Returning with the doctor, Jack's father found the air tense as Nancy was checking Jack's vitals on the machine beside his head, "Everything okay?"

As Nancy continued to go about her work, Jack's mother turned to her husband with her usual smile, accepting a quick kiss as he took the seat beside the bed, "Of course. Everything's perfectly fine." She paused for a moment, catching his gaze and holding it, allowing it to linger between them as Jack felt like gagging.

Collecting the clipboard at the end of the bed, the doctor came to a halt with his trainers meeting at the end of Jack's bed, his purple scrubs clearly freshly changed, "So, Seán, Mrs McLoughlin. I'm Dr Hansen and I'm here to tell you that the operation went as well as we could have hoped and that your son's leg should heal correctly in time. In fact, once you've spoken to the consultant, if everything's okay, we'll have him discharged. You may have a slight concussion, Seán. If he begins to feel ill, bring him back in and we'll see to it ."

Jack's mother nodded quickly as she ruffled her fingers through Jack's fluffy brown hair, "Thank you, Dr Hansen. Do you know when the consultant will be in?" Reaching upwards absentmindedly, Jack wanted to ignore the conversation though couldn't quite seem to tune out what was happening as every noise seemed so much louder than normal. He caught the end of his mother's headscarf carefully and gently wound his fingers through the material.

As Dr Hansen finished tidying a few notes, he seemed to watch Jack in fascination. He watched what he was doing and the lack of reaction from his mother, "Actually, she's in right now. You were lucky. She'll make her way to this room after seeing another couple of patients." Jack could still feel the doctor's eyes on him as he watched the taller man put the clipboard back into the basket at the end of his bed, behind other sheets of paper, before straightening his back, "Has Seán been tested for anything? Sometimes boys his age go under the radar."

Blocking out as much of the conversation as he could, Jack focussed on the way the scarf shimmered with every twist around his nimble fingers. Eventually, however, Jack felt his mother nudge his arm as the doctor asked, "Seán, how loud does the room seem right now?"

Jack finally dropped his mother's headscarf, watching her tug short strands of hair that had come loose back under it. He turned to the doctor, seeing a blonde woman with glasses standing in the doorway behind him, "Hello. It's very loud. The beeping won't stop." When there was silence, Jack glanced around the room again, watching Dr Hansen write down his notes as he shuffled awkwardly in the bed.

"Thank you, Dr Hansen. Hello, Seán, I'm Dr Braswell, I'm the consultant. We'll just check your leg and then, hopefully, you can be on your way." This Dr Braswell was smiles and sunshine and daffodil hand cream. She seemed too happy to work in a hospital as she came forward to take a look at Jack's cast.

After being poked at and prodded at for another few minutes, Dr Braswell said that he could discharged and took his father to sign the forms. Finally, Lucas was allowed back into the room and sat on Jack's bed as his mother helped him change behind the screen in the corner.

When Jack came out from behind the screen, Lucas was sitting cross-legged, fiddling with his fingers in his lap and refusing to meet his friend's eyes, "I'm sorry, Jack. It was my fault."

Scoffing, Jack jumped carefully onto the bed beside Lucas to let his mother tie his shoelaces, "No it wasn't." He watched in fascination as he felt nothing when his mother tied the laces on his broken leg. Her fingers were moving and she kept asking if it was too tight but Jack had no idea.

"It was. I'm the one that wanted to play." Lucas was obviously taking it a lot harder than Jack had initially realised as, when the boy finally looked up, Jack could see that he'd been crying. Without saying anything, he simply reached across to take his best friend into a hug and allowed the blonde boy to sniffle against his shoulder. He hated to see Lucas crying and he hated that it happened so often anyway. What Jack really hated, however, was knowing that he was the reason for his only friend's tears.

Jack's mother watched the boys with a smile on her face as she saw the way Jack comforted his friend, "Lucas, don't be silly. It was Jack's brothers' fault. I'll be giving them a good kicking when we get home."

When Lucas pulled away from Jack, the brunette boy couldn't stop thinking about his dirty hair and flat fringe, "How long was I asleep?" Jack watched Lucas shuffle under his gaze, twisting the sheets in his fingers as the blood rushed to his cheeks and he seemed to try to escape the conversation, remaining silent.

Smiling, Jack's mother collected his grey hoodie from the chair in the corner of the room and held it out for him to slip his arms into. She noticed that Lucas didn't seem to want to answer and slipped into the conversation, "Two days."

Knitting his eyebrows together, Jack kept his focus on Lucas as the boy turned and squirmed, "How long have you been here?" For some reason, his friend was ashamed and he wanted to know why. He hated to see Lucas worried about something though, at the same time, he couldn't stop thinking about the soft blush blossoming on his cheeks. It reminded him of one of the girls in his class, Laurel, and the way her face would heat up whenever he spoke to her.

"Two days." Jack's mother interjected again as Jack reached the bed once more, this time to take the hand that Lucas was using to knot the sheet and hold it delicately in his own to calm him, "He wouldn't leave."

 


	2. Muddy Heels

  
09.09.16

It had been almost a whole school week since the news that one of the school's most respected students had killed himself over the summer had come out in an all-school memorial assembly. Three days, two hours and twelve minutes, to be exact. Ever since, kids had tiptoed around Jack, worried to say anything wrong as if he were in danger of killing himself too.

How right they were.

Rifling through the books in his locker, Jack's shoulders hunched incase one of the school's sporting stars decided to make his break even more of a hell by shoving him like they usually did. The blow never came, though Jack wouldn't let his guard down; no one had tried to hit him since they heard about Luke. It would start again soon but it was nice to know that the neanderthals had at least a little respect for the dead.

"So, these are the lockers." Jack heard one of his old friends', Tiffin's, voice approaching down the hall and cursed that he wasn't ready to turn and run. He didn't want to talk to him, he didn't want to talk to any of them. Some help they'd been. After that day in the holidays, Jack had become even more reclusive but instead of being there for him, they'd obviously decided that he was too much like hard work. If they couldn't save Luke, how would they ever save the kid who everyone already knew was capable of it?

He poked his head out briefly, he may have hated the boy leading the tour but Jack was nosey. A new kid in school was always fun to gawk at, that is, until they joined the other popular groups and started beating him up or shouting insults at him like everyone else.

For the first time, Jack noticed the wide area of quiet around him and the crashing stream of students on the other side of the hall. The students at his school were never so respectful of someone at their locker so Jack was quick to assume that they were just trying to avoid him like they had for the last four days. He was perfectly alright with being alone but he really didn't need that much room to use his locker.

His eyes, however, quickly focussed on the new kid walking behind Tiffin. Tiffin was tall so, even though he was probably taller than Jack, the boy looked small in comparison. He had dark hair but the way the harsh lights hit it made it look like it could have been red before that. Darting his gaze back into his locker before he could be seen, Jack froze when he heard Tiffin's dirty converse scuffing against the floor. He could tell that the boys were making use of the empty space and noticed that he must have stopped at his own locker three doors down.

Jack reached up to pull his flat cap further down over his wild green hair, he'd dyed it the night before. 'New hair, new me' and all that. It hadn't worked to make him feel better but Jack had to admit that he did like. That didn't, however, mean that he wanted Tiffin to see his desperate attempts at separating himself from the life he'd lived when Luke was by his side.

"Who's that?" If there was one thing the new kid wasn't, it was quiet. Or Irish.

Ducking his head to try and hide, Jack breathed slowly as if that would make him invisible, his chin almost resting on the bottom of his top-row locker. Unfortunately, all of those efforts seemed to go to waste when he heard Tiffin practically whispering, "That's Jack." He'd always had good hearing and although he didn't like the boy, he was glad that he could try and listen in to what he would say about him.

The new kid spoke again, his American accent getting slightly louder as he turned in his direction, "Jack?" Burying himself further into his locker, Jack scrunched his face together and scowled, really not wanting to end up getting dragged into a conversation, especially not with him.

"Shhh, keep your voice down, Mark!" Thankfully, Jack had a feeling that that meant Tiffin wouldn't be bringing 'Mark' to come and see him, "You heard about Luke Mulligan, right? No? Christ." Tiffin's voice was hushed and quiet, obviously trying desperately to be sure that Jack wouldn't hear him; the boy knew just how sensitive Jack's hearing was, "Luke was his best friend; yeah, was. He killed himself last week and Jack hasn't taken it well. The funeral's on Saturday." Fighting to make sure the lump in his throat stayed exactly where it was, Jack whimpered quietly when he couldn't quite stop it coming out.

Silence seeped through the hallway for a moment, the stream of students from before having cleared as Jack rested his forehead on the locker to his left. He hadn't been all there since he first heard about Luke. Jack was in a constant state of his depression, but also some form of restless mania that meant that he just couldn't sit still. The morning had started off somewhat okay, so maybe he had been a little manic but at least he hadn't been really thinking about killing himself to join his friend. That was gone.

Jack had medication to take to make sure that things like that didn't happen. He had been trying to take it but he'd missed a day of pills whilst he was at the hospital with Luke's family. The trauma had made him more prone to it so he fell easily into one of his depressive episodes. When Jack was depressed, it was difficult to remember to take his medication as he was too busy thinking of ways to kill himself. New ways, anyway. He couldn't stop thinking about how useless he was or how little he mattered to anyone. His best friend was gone because he was too stupid to spot the signs. Considering the fact that Jack had read every book on the topic, he should have known the minute that things started to go downhill.

When Jack was manic, it was just as difficult to remember to take his medication as he was too busy flying through thousands of ideas every minute. He spent most of that time playing his instruments, driving his parents insane and running around the castle in one of the back fields of his parents' farm; hopping over the holes in the floorboards upstairs, where he could see straight through to the ground floor, Jack would conjure up storylines for the people who'd lived there before it had decayed. Sometimes he'd go to the abandoned stable block and tidy it, sweeping any of the old hay that fell every now and again back into a neat pile in the corner.

It didn't stop the suicidal thoughts; if anything, it amplified them. Jack had had it planned since he was thirteen; go out with a bang. He craved some big accident like driving a car off a bridge. It would be fitting since he'd never been a safe driver anyway but Jack couldn't do that anymore. Now, he wanted it to be peaceful but epic, somewhere where no one would find him for a while but eventually, the people who really knew him would know where to look. Not long enough so that his body had rotted away before they got there but a few hours of peace to die alone. He would be the talk of the town.

Finally, Mark seemed to have learnt how to lower his voice as the boy sounded shell-shocked, struggling through, "Oh my god, that's awful."

Voice crackling over an almost-silent, strangled sob, Jack listened to Tiffin talk about them, feeling his knees buckle beneath him slightly though forcing himself to stay standing, "Yeah, well, Jack won't talk to anyone anymore. Not even me and the boys, we were their best friends." The selfish bastard seemed to think that Jack was the main problem, "We think they had a 'thing' going."

Jack's heart was suddenly pounding in his ears, blood rushing to his face as fury and shame overcame him. He couldn't believe that Tiffin had told this kid, who didn't know Jack at all, that he thought he was gay. What if Mark was gay and he tried to talk to him? What if Mark was homophobic and he thought he was disgusting? What if Mark told everyone Jack was gay and he had to explain that he wasn't without crying over the loss of someone who might have become his boyfriend?

How dare Cole Edward Tiffin tell anyone that he thought he might be gay? Jack didn't care how much they already hated each other, he was furious. He would never have expected one of his friends to do anything like that.

"Jack and Luke?" Mark's voice remained soft and gentle. He didn't really sound angry or disgusted so Jack lifted his head slightly, waiting to hear something to tell him in which direction the boy would take his new information. Jack didn't often admit to being scared but he certainly was in that instant.

Feeling his hat slip, Jack quickly fixed it, jamming it down over his green fringe. He knew that Tiffin would just take it as even more evidence that Jack was losing the plot, "Yep."

The only people he'd ever told about his mental health were his friends. Luke, of course, had known for years and helped him through telling the other boys after he wasn't there to help settle him through a manic episode and the boys hadn't known what to do. He really didn't know why he'd been scared to tell them, after all, Tiffin, Matthew, Arin and Teddy were perfectly accepting. They didn't laugh at him or really even question him at all, just made him feel at home. Teddy had always been the most gentle and his hugs were always the best to calm him down, besides Luke's, of course.

"That's even worse. Can we go talk to him?" Was there anything that would deter that boy?

Jack really didn't want to speak to him and began getting ready to slam the door of his locker and stalk away when he heard the panic in Tiffin's voice, "What? No! Do it later, when I'm not with you. On your head be it if he snaps and shoots the place up." Charming, though Jack had to admit, he did have to suppress a little snort. There was a reason that boy had been one of his best friends.

Once again, the boy remained silent as he seemed to mull over this statement, "Would he?" Just from that one sentence, Jack really didn't feel like getting to know him. How could anyone not tell that Tiffin was joking?

"God, no, don't be ridiculous. That kid's a hardcore pacifist." Once again, Jack almost wanted to snort. He wasn't exactly a pacifist, he just refused to rise to violence himself. His friends had never understood that and decided to label him a 'pacifist' to make it easier, "He used to get beat up a lot but would never fight back. I suppose one good thing from all this is those assholes leave him alone now."

Unable to argue with Tiffin's statement, Jack found his eyebrows flying further up his forehead at what Mark said next, "I want to be his friend." No one had ever really wanted to be his friend before, no one but Luke. Luke had seen him at nursery and decided that the small, dark-haired boy would be his new best friend. Luke had dragged him to social events, parties, made him somewhat popular within the misfits of their school. Luke had introduced him to Arin, and from there, Jack found himself in the middle of a group of friends who just wanted to make sure that he was happy for the rest of his life.

Tiffin quickly hushed the boy once again, causing Jack to roll his eyes as the bell for the end of break rang overhead, "What did I say? You can talk to him later."

Deciding that he couldn't give a fuck what Tiffin thought of him anymore, Jack closed his bag, slammed his locker door shut and tipped his hat with a scowl on the way passed the boys to English Literature, deliberately showing off his light green fringe. Contempt blinded him as he watched Tiffin's mouth opening in shock, obviously realising that the boy had heard everything they'd said about him and also registering the bolt of colour on his head.

 

Feeling the door latch in its hinges, Jack stayed there for a moment, resting his forehead against the cool wood as he just listened to the usual sounds of his house. He heard his siblings upstairs, fighting and playing video games, one of his dogs, Gizmo, clicking slowly on the wooden floors and teacups being laid to rest on saucers in the dining room. Jack's other dog, Sam, was out with his dad on the farm.

"Jack? Is that you?" His mother's voice called from the dining room, the sounds of teacups stopping as she waited for an answer. It really couldn't be anyone else, since they always locked the door, so Jack didn't really know why she called to make sure it was him everyday.

Though, that was a bit of a lie. Jack had a feeling that she was constantly worrying that one day it would be his dad, home from work early after a call from the police station, "Hello, sir, is this Mr McLoughlin? I'm sorry to inform you that your son, Seán McLoughlin, has been found dead in one of your fields. The one with the old farmhouse, yes. We're calling it a suicide." It wouldn't be too far fetched and Jack knew it.

Kicking off his boots and straightening them on the mat, Jack bounced on the balls of his feet on the way to the kitchen, "Yeah, Ma!"

When he arrived, however, he froze. Sat at the dining table, with his mum, was Nancy Mulligan, Luke's mother. Dropping down onto his feet and walking normally, Jack fetched a can of coke quickly from the fridge, mumbling, "I'll be in my room," under his breath in an attempt to hide himself from the blonde woman watching him from the table.

Nodding quickly, his mother extracted a long-fingered hand from her steaming cup of tea to catch him before he could dart up the stairs and plug in his headphones to shut out the rest of the world, "That's okay, Jack. Nancy's staying for dinner, if that's alright? In fact, she's going to be staying for a pretty long time." His mother let her other hand reach across to sit on her friend's, looking back to Jack as if to make sure that it was all alright. Did it really matter what he thought? Things sounded pretty definite already.

"Why?" Jack couldn't stop the word from slipping out as his heart rate slowly rose, his brain filling with the hundreds of things that he could be doing instead of having that conversation. He had to admit, he had felt giddy on the way home, skipping occasionally and running the last few streets so he should have known to take his pills as soon as he came in. He'd forgotten for the last week and ever since, had been fending off the manic symptoms.

It had taken his mother less than a second to register what her son had said, snapping a warning and making the boy wince slightly as he turned to look back at them from his way out of the kitchen. All he wanted to do was put his headphones in and rifle through idea after idea, just sitting tight without succumbing to it. Jack had been refusing to accept his manic episode since he'd heard about Luke, he didn't feel right being so happy and he didn't want to be happy without him. He'd been in a weird mixture of both extremes since he'd stopped taking his pills, "Seán, don't be rude." His mother only called him by his birth name when she was angry.

Shaking her head, Nancy extracted her hand from Jack's mother's grip, "Don't worry about it, Florrie. It's alright. Jack, I'm divorcing Andrew. We just can't get through losing him, not together." She tilted her head and Jack couldn't help but notice her gaze dart briefly to the left. Something was wrong.

Jack nodded slowly, deciding to play along to begin with before he could try to push for answers, "Already? Usually, it takes couples who lose a child to suicide at least a couple of months." When neither of the adults said anything, just watched him in surprise, Jack rolled his shoulders nonchalantly before continuing, trying to push further, "Though the statistic that ninety percent of married couples divorce afterwards is a complete lie, in 2006 it was found that it's closer to sixteen percent though only four percent of those say that it was because of the death. The other twelve percent just hated each other already." Once again, there was only a second of silence.

"Seán!" This time, his mother sounded furious. She probably wasn't, Jack just wasn't very good at reading people but he wouldn't have been surprised if she was furious. He was almost furious at himself.

Shuffling from foot to foot, Jack couldn't seem to stand still as he wanted out of the conversation as soon as possible to escape everything, "Sorry." His breathing accelerated as he began to bounce again, unable to stop himself, despite knowing that it wasn't the time. He wanted to run to the castle and fly from the roof.

"Seán, you didn't take your pills this morning, did you?" Jack watched his mother stand and come closer towards him, not touching him but offering an outstretched palm, her fingers splayed out as if asking for a high-five. When Jack said nothing, she sighed before looking at him seriously, "Jack, please." Watching his mother, Jack took only another moment to exhale deeply, closing his eyes and focussing on slowing his breathing as he stretched out his fingers, pressing only the tips of them against his mother's for the briefest second.

When he felt able to control what he was saying again, Jack stole a glance at Luke's curious mother before lowering his head in shame. He hated to seem vulnerable, especially in front of other people. Controlling his episodes had never been too hard for Jack, so long as it hadn't been going for too long. Once, he passed the two week mark and had to be hospitalised when there was no talking him around but he tried not to get like that. He hated worrying people, "No."

His mother smiled sadly, reaching towards the shelf where they kept the tablets, "Come on, Jack, you were just getting good at remembering this." She pulled a glass from the cupboard to Jack's right and began filling it with water from the fridge, "I thought you were going to do this yourself this year."

Deciding not to grace that with an answer, Jack just watched what his mother was doing before remembering the cold feeling in his hand, "I have a drink."

Interjecting from the table, Nancy seemed to be furrowing her eyebrows together and watching curiously, as if in an attempt to read his Lithium prescription from the small box his mother held, "Jack, you know you shouldn't take pills with caffeine, don't you?"

Jack scowled slightly towards the cupboards, glaring at his mother as she tutted at him, stopping her from saying anything about it in front of Nancy, "I know." After Jack's mother had helped him take the correct amount of pills, he left to go to his room though stood outside the kitchen for a moment. He knew it was wrong but he wanted to hear what Nancy had to say about his medication.

"I didn't know Jack was ill?" That was a bit of a surprise. He'd expected Luke to have at least told his mother something about him, "I thought you would have told me, Florrie, I'm a nurse." Of course, the fact that she was a nurse was obviously essential to the conversation, despite the fact that Jack's mother knew perfectly well. After all, Nancy had been her nurse whilst she was in the hospital. Jack had never really got on with Luke's parents as Luke hadn't either, his father had always been the worst but it didn't really stop Nancy from irritating Jack.

He was about to leave when he heard his mother's reply, a little shocked that she was so upfront with it but also wanting to know what Nancy would say, "Luke didn't tell you he has Bipolar?"

It didn't take long for Luke's mother to reply, the tone of her voice raising towards the end of the simple statement, "Luke knew?" Jack had to admit, he was a little shocked that Nancy knew nothing but he'd known very little about Luke's relationship with his parents. His mother had always seemed relatively normal when Jack was around but Luke would complain about them any other time so he'd never really known.

"Sometimes I think that Luke knew more about my son than I do. It's sad to think that Jack couldn't help the person who helped him through everything. I wish Luke had just gone to Jack the way Jack used to go to him." Jack's mother sounded upset and he started to feel bad for shutting her out most of the time. He'd never deliberately tried to make it so that his parents felt that they didn't know who he was, it had just been a byproduct of his defence mechanisms, the same defence mechanisms that had doubled inanely since they lost Luke.

No one spoke for a moment, the only sounds ringing through the house were his siblings upstairs and Gizmo pulling herself down the steps lazily. Jack was feeling somewhat calmer already, even though he knew that his prescription hadn't kicked in yet. He'd missed the quiet sensibility of his own brain sometimes.

Eventually, Nancy spoke up again, shocking Jack even further, "Has he told you yet? If he's gay or if they were 'together'?" Obviously, Jack hadn't been very discreet in his last conversation with Luke's father but he didn't really expect such an upfront question. He should have expected it really, all Nancy wanted was to know her son better and if he might have been gay, she just wanted to know that he had been happy. At least for a little.

Pushing Gizmo down as she tried to jump up and balance herself against his thigh, Jack tried to listen to his mother's response through the clicking of claws against wooden floorboards, "I'm afraid not. I don't think he ever will, either, not after what Andrew said to him on Sunday. Jack folds in on himself and self-destructs."

Jack lowered himself to his knees, taking Gizmo in his arms and quieting her by pushing his nose into the soft fur on the top of her head. The old dog always relaxed when Jack held her, all she wanted was a bit of affection. Had a dog ever been so relatable? Nancy took a moment to respond before her voice seemed to crack over a broken apology, "I'm sorry . . . I don't think Jack wants me here. I can go back to Galway with my parents, if that would be easier?"

Interjecting quickly, Jack could practically hear his mother reach across the table to take her friend's hand in her own, "Don't be sorry, Andrew's a bastard. Don't leave, either. I'm sorry about Jack, he's just . . . delicate right now. Your home is here, in Athlone, and you need your friends right now. Your parents won't do you any good." Her voice was soft and gentle, softer than Jack could remember hearing it when he was in sound mind for a long time. He loved his mother, he really did, but he always felt like he was just annoying her.

Quickly, Jack shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and coaxed Gizmo up the stairs with him, bringing her into his bedroom so that he could close the door behind her. A deep sigh wracked through Jack's body as he found his headphones beside his bed and plugged them into his phone, dropping onto the thick duvet, face first. Being the youngest was a good thing occasionally, for example, it meant that he got his own room.

Gizmo wriggled her way onto the bed, deciding to lie over Jack's back, despite his protests, though he soon gave up trying to push her off and just lay there, listening to his music with his dog flattening out his spine.

Luke had always loved coming to his house to see Gizmo and the dog had loved him just as much. She had, after all, been making her way downstairs after recognising the familiar smell sitting in the kitchen. It was just one of those things, that Jack's dog loved Luke just as much as he did and that Luke loved Jack's dog, perhaps more than he loved Jack. He wouldn't have been surprised, it wasn't like they ever became anything.

 

"Jack, get out here, ya little shit! We're taking Gizmo for a walk. Where the hell is Gizmo?"

Being the youngest was also a bad thing, for example, it meant that all four of his siblings could boss him around.

Groaning as Gizmo kneaded him in the spine when clambering down, Jack forced himself upright and dropped his headphones onto the floor again. He threw on a different hoodie and opened the door for his fat dog to waddle out, listening to his sister, Allison, clattering around downstairs, trying to find the dog he'd had with him.

"Jack!"

Rolling his eyes, Jack grumbled about having to go out so soon after getting back from school as he fumbled around his bedroom, "I'm coming!" He grabbed his hat from where it had fallen onto his bed, jamming it onto his head and tucking his fringe into the front. His siblings hadn't seen his hair yet and he didn't really want them to laugh at him if they thought it was stupid. Jack hopped down the stairs quickly, seeing all four of them waiting for him with Gizmo on the lead.

His oldest brother, Malcolm, tapped his foot impatiently as Jack hurried to lace up his boots, "Hurry up, Mum told us to go out. We're going to go 'round the back fields." He watched as Jack froze, raising an eyebrow before softening when he realised why his brother wouldn't necessarily be comfortable, "Don't worry, Jack, we're not going to the old farmhouse."

Standing and adjusting his hat nervously, Jack reached for the door handle and lead the way out of the house, "The castle." He corrected his brother quickly, not wanting them to call the dilapidated farmhouse anything else just because Luke wasn't there to share it with him.

"Fine, we're not going to make it to the castle." Malcolm walked out behind Jack, gesturing for the others to follow as he handed Gizmo's lead to Allison. He remained silent, staying closest to Jack as their siblings trailed behind a little to give Jack some space. Malcolm and Allison were the only ones who'd really spoken to him properly since they'd heard the news, they were the only ones who weren't walking on eggshells around him.

Jack watched the scenery pass as they made their way through the fields at the back of the McLoughlin farm, tall trees lining the fields and the familiar sunflowers, waving as a blurry speck in the distance. Birds sang around him as Jack tucked his hands into his jeans, trudging forward, patting Seelie's neck as they passed and paying little attention to the people behind him. He was locked in his own little world, thankfully not in an episode but it still didn't feel great to be unable to pull himself out of it. Especially not as they got closer and closer to the sunflower field with the castle.

A sudden gust of wind buffeted through the small group, sending Jack's hat flying until Malcolm reached out to retrieve it from its path. His siblings seemed to stop behind him as he turned back to take his hat, just watching him with curious expressions as Rachel, his youngest sibling, spoke up, "Jack?"

Snarling, Jack snatched his hat back from Malcolm before shoving it over his hair furiously, "What?" He snapped at his sister, trying to get them to continue walking but none of them moved.

"Why's your hair green?" It was the first time Rachel had spoken to him at all since they heard about Luke and Jack really wasn't in the mood for apologies. She stepped forward slightly, coming in line with Malcolm as she tried to get the boy to just talk to her about things.

Turning back to the direction they had been walking, Jack folded his arms self-consciously, trying to cover his body and hide as much as he possibly could, "I dyed it." This was why he hadn't wanted his siblings to see it, he knew they'd think it was stupid. Wrapping his hoodie further around himself, Jack simply waited for them to walk forwards so that he could hang back and make his way behind them. Jack didn't feel like being in the front right now, not where he could be seen.

Rachel approached him gingerly, reaching forward to lay a hand on Jack's shoulder before he flinched violently and she retracted, "Jack, are you having another breakdown?"

Snapping, Jack swung back around to face his siblings, stepping further back from them when he noticed how close Rachel was behind him, "No!" He didn't want to admit to them that he hadn't been taking his pills but he didn't need to, his mother had helped him take them earlier. It was very rare that Jack opened up to his siblings anyway, he'd always felt that they would judge him but he really hated talking about his Bipolar with them. They didn't understand it and just irritated him.

"Jack!" Rachel called after him as he spun on his heel, taking off across the field towards the flowers in the distance. He didn't want to be around them if they were just going to interrogate him and it didn't take five of them to walk Gizmo anyway, he was sure that his mum wouldn't mind.

He called over his shoulder, pushing his sprint as far as it could go on his way away from them, "Leave me alone!" Jack turned briefly to see that they were simply standing there, watching after him. He was glad that none of them were trying to follow him so kept going, reaching a hand up to swipe his hat from his head as he felt the wind tugging at it, squeezing his fingers around it as his breath wheezed through his lungs. It wasn't that Jack was out of shape, in fact, he was quite athletic and had been on the school's relay team with his friends. He just hadn't done any running since he'd heard about Luke and his chest was already tight from trying not to cry.

It only took a couple of minutes when Jack slowed to a jog, stopping at the gate to the furthest field from their house. His parents had put the gate up, between the trees, after he broke his leg, falling down the hill, when he was six. He looked up at the old farmhouse, seeing the collapsed roof and the ivy creeping along the walls and in through the first floor windows. The stable block sat to the right of the house, its roof somehow still in tact after all of the times that Jack had sat up there, watching the stars with Luke.

After vaulting the gate, he made his way to the fire pit in the courtyard of the house, kicking at the stones around his feet and remembering the last time he'd sat there, waiting for Luke to turn up but finding his other friends racing across the field desperately instead. That was probably the worst day of his life.

Jack slipped through the front door of the house, climbing around the rundown furniture until he reached the first floor and looking out one of the old bedroom windows. Far in the distance, he could see his old friends in the field that bordered his. Although the McLoughlins owned most of the farmland in the area, Jack's dad rented that one out to the Tiffins, as their house wasn't far from it and they kept sheep, which were in the barn at that moment.

There were five of them and it took Jack a moment to recognise that the new kid, Mark, was with them. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with the fact that they'd already replaced either him or Luke so soon (most likely Jack, Mark was much closer to his height and he really didn't have Luke's arrogance to him) but it wasn't like he could do anything. He had decided to leave them to it, rather than fighting for them when he felt that they were starting to ditch him. It would be weird to call them out on it now.

Watching them chase each other, Jack couldn't keep the small smile off his face as he was reminded of all of the times they'd teased and poked at each other in the courtyard directly below him. Everything had changed but at the same time, for them, everything seemed to have eerily stayed the same.

Eventually, a car pulled up next to the field that his old friends were in, the lights turning off as someone climbed out with a dog jumping around their heels. It didn't take long for Jack to recognise his father. His shoulders sagged as he watched him approach the boys, who had lulled to a stop at the sight of the familiar car. Jack's father appeared to ask them something, causing the boys to shrug and look between each other, Teddy casting a glance towards the farmhouse as Jack jumped behind the wall incase they could make out his shape from the window.

Unfortunately, when he poked his head around the corner, all six of the people were peering in his direction. He had a feeling that he had been spotted.

Jack clambered over the furniture and down the rotting stairs, slipping out the back door to hide in the stable. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Jack heard the voices of his father and his old friends. He listened to Teddy, who was adamant that he'd someone moving, wishing he could clamp a hand over the boy's mouth and make him shut up. He'd always been too perfect for his own good.

"I'm sure I saw him!" Suddenly, Teddy's voice outside the stable door startled him, sending him silently scrambling over old equipment so that he could press himself into the corner, trying to hide better. Squatting beside empty barrels of horse feed, Jack held his breath and listened to footsteps just outside.

Soon after, Jack heard his father nervously reassuring the boys. He wasn't meant to be home yet, which meant that his siblings had called him and said they were worried. Jack hated disrupting his father when he was working, he felt bad, "Well, we'll look around, I wouldn't be surprised if he came here. God, I just want to find him, Florrie said he looked like he was starting one of his episodes when he came home." There was a pause as Jack waited to hear the wooden door creaking open, surprised when he just heard more footsteps, "If he's depressive, I don't know what he'll do, Arin. Then again, he's always wanted to go out with a bang so I don't think manic would be any better."

A different voice chimed into the conversation, this time an American accent, to shock Jack into focussing again, "We'll find him, Mr McLoughlin." Jack rolled his eyes, not surprised that Mark was sucking up to the adult in the situation. They really had replaced him and not Luke.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met?" Jack's father seemed confused and the green-haired boy could bet that he was probably offering a handshake. William McLoughlin had always been comfortable with all of Jack's friends as they often hung out at Jack's house or on the farm. A new face must have been a shock but it wasn't like Mark was even friends with Jack so what did it really matter?

It took less than a second for Mark to respond, throwing a somewhat cheery tone to his voice for the situation. He was obviously someone who strived for optimism, "I'm Mark. I just moved here over the summer."

Jack heard his father tutting though his voice seemed to have lightened. He could practically see the older man clapping a hand on Mark's shoulder, "Rough time to be turning up, Kid. Call me Will." He'd always liked to be casual and on first name terms, Jack didn't know why but titles and surnames had always made the man a little on edge.

It was quiet for a moment after that as Jack heard footsteps away from the building, recognising the weight of his father's wellies. He'd just come from milking the cows so he'd been wearing tweed, the sleeves of his check shirt rolled up to his elbows. Jack had helped his father out enough times to know what his footsteps sounded like in his wellies and remembered the many times when his mother would shout at them both for walking into the house wearing them.

He couldn't stop himself. Those thoughts led to memories of the days he went out with Luke and raced home to find sandwiches and lemonade sitting ready on the kitchen counter, his mother tutting at their muddy boots and the tracks they'd left from the front door. The tips of Jack's ears quickly became hot as he remembered Luke's guilty expression as he jumped up when Jack's mother found them, balancing precariously on the heels of his boots to avoid mud hitting the floor as much as possible. He remembered all of the times that Luke's mother would berate him for the rapid rate that his heels would wear down and how she would constantly have to take his boots into town to have them fixed. He remembered the trips into town with Luke and his mother, leaving Nancy to do her own thing as Luke and Jack ran from store to store, trailing their fingertips over the most interesting things and occasionally slipping sweets into their pockets. A hot tear quickly slipped down Jack's left cheek, carving the path for many more as he tried his best to stifle his sobs.

Suddenly, the heavy door groaned in its hinges as Jack's head whipped up to see it opening slowly. Jack saw Mark peer his head around the door, sweeping his eyes from one side of the stable block to the other before they landed on Jack. Turns out, he was never hidden that well. Although it appeared as though Mark were about to step closer, he paused when he heard Jack whimpering and watched the smaller boy raise a frail, shaking finger to his lips.

Jack could see the conflict burning on Mark's face as he turned to glance back outside the stable, probably at the other boys and Jack's father. Eventually, he nodded and heaved the stable door closed. Hearing his feet travelling away from the door, Jack scurried to meet it himself and peer through the crack. He watched as Mark approached the group, telling them that, "He's not there. Don't worry, though, I'm sure he's gone home by now." Jack really had no idea why Mark had decided to help him, but he was certainly grateful to the boy for doing it.

Padding carefully back to his position behind the old barrels, Jack reached his fingers to his cheeks and wiped furiously at the tears but found that he still couldn't stop crying. The voices of the boys outside died down and eventually, Jack heard a car in the distance.

 


End file.
